


To what we lost

by Satanisalwayscreaming



Series: Memoirs to the lost [3]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: And I also love, And More Angst, And angst, Angst, F/F, F/M, I'm back, Satan is back y'all, and I loe this kind of angst, but it's up to y'all lmao, but yeah, idk - Freeform, it depends, like the idea, maybe some fluff, of a twisted arcana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 06:02:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17420432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satanisalwayscreaming/pseuds/Satanisalwayscreaming
Summary: They had all lost a part of themselves. All lost something inside.He lived in his own paradise, in his own safe space. Away from everyone and everything else. A place where he could only stay.Julian was angry, raving like a rabid dog. Angry, confused, and ready to start a rebellion that may not be needed. Raving for blood and violence that would never need to see the light of day.She was caught up in her past, in the idea of something that she had that she could do better without. But it seems like she didn't want to be better.





	To what we lost

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my idea of a 'What if' scenario in the arcana. A scenario where the Arcana characters grew twisted, where they fell pray to their deadly sins and changed. Where they need a lot of help and growth before they can love and learn to love but this is angsty and the happy ending...well that's for you to decide. Hope you guys enjoy!!
> 
> If you like my content follow me on tumblr!
> 
> arcana-more-likely-nadia-trash

_ The wandering magician with a wealth of secrets. _

 

He always held his secrets close to his chest. As far as you can remember he was always distant, always aloof, but most importantly, always missing.

 

Always on an adventure, always going to places ‘You can’t follow me to yet,’ and always running from something. You don’t blame him, in fact you can’t bring yourself to care much. 

 

He was always gone after all.

 

Of course you were thankful, for getting help, for not being alone when you had awoken with barely anything but your name and the idea to breathe. But most of the time, it wasn’t him who took care of you.

 

He was there, but most of the time it was the Baker, that nice woman down the street...the friendly Fish Guy who gave you the freshest fish for the lowest prices.

 

In short, he was barely there as if he was running away from you--as if he didn’t want to see you.

 

It hurt, the first few times, and it stung with you. Weren’t you enough? Did you do something? Did you hurt him? Was there something you said?

 

You had searched through your memories, combing through the nebulous broken fragments of the things you can remember but nothing comes up. You had done this relentlessly, each time being rewarded by a splintering headache or at worse, slipping into a coma that you’d wake up days later, being fussed over by Faust and whoever took care of you or had last visited.

 

But there were days when Asra did show up, appearing as if he had not been gone for long, as if he had taken a trip down the market. He showed up at unexpected times, often, but he never stayed the night, never slept in the shop and certainly didn’t stay with you for long.

 

He was always distant, as if seeing you makes him pause, pulling himself closer to himself and stepping away from everyone else--even you. Bit by bit, it felt like you were losing someone who means the world to you.

 

But you can’t seem to understand why.

 

Yet, despite the brief appearances and the rather infrequency of his visits, he still took time to teach you magic--to teach you the Arcana. It was the only activity where you would bond with him. 

 

The only activity that seemed to bring you both closer.

Magic is fickle, and rather ancient and powerful. Asra works over the cards, and you see his patience, see the rare ghost of a smile on his features when you pick up a lesson he taught rather quickly or seemed to know what you were doing despite knowing nothing.

 

He would even tell you of his travels then, of mountains that touched the sky, of colours that danced at night with the stars. His voice full of wonder and awe and he gets so animated it makes you smile and laugh and you see him smiling and laughing and for a moment there’s no pain or stress between you 2.

 

Just the gentleness of the moment and the warmth you both shared.

 

But just like that, it was gone. You’d make dinner, he’d cook while you prepared. Sometimes the order changed, but most of the time you’d cook. He was helpful, funny. Goofing around here and there. But there was always sadness. Lingering in his eyes.

 

After dinner, he cleans. He always cleans, and when his back is turned you swear you’ve seen this before. Seen this scene before. He was doing that. Humming a song. You know that song too. Where? Where did you see it? When did you hear?

 

What..?

 

You wake up in bed, tucked, his fragrance lingering in the air as Faust curls around you protectively. His presence merely fleeting, like a pleasant dream. You chase after it, but it feels so surreal. Did it happen? Did any of it really happen? But a new trinket is left, a beautiful red scarf. 

 

The only proof you had that he was here.

 

But soon time comes and you’re faced with a situation you did not forsee. The Countess comes one night. Demanding you help look for her fallen spouse and lover, the late Count Lucio. Find the murderer, she had ordered and you had little to say except ‘Yes’ to her demands.

 

The castle is a tomb, cold, harsh, as cold and harsh as the Countess herself. 

 

Yet as you had searched through the library, reading and shifting through when you feel magic in the air. 

 

His magic.

 

Soon pieces fall together, memories that weren’t yours come flashing by. The feared rebellion and murderer, Julian Devorak, the tyrant Countess….and yet something was wrong. Different. As if...as if…

 

They were all happy. 

 

That couldn’t be, could it? You found yourself running to the gardens--the Countess had given you free permission to run around and find the murderer. So when you had gazed into the pond, the last thing you expect is to see Asra. 

 

Sitting under a place so familiar it made your heart ache, that it made your head spin but you didn’t feel faint. It gave you a familiar sensation, calling your name. 

 

Home.

 

It felt like home.

 

When he sees you there’s shock on his features, his beautiful features you’re sure--you swear you’ve kissed before. That you’ve held his hand, sang his name in the night. You’re sure that he was yours and you were his.

 

You recount everything, that happened. The Countess, the Doctor, told him about the books, the visions, you tell him what you’ve seen. His expression sinks more and you feel your heart squeeze. Was it your fault? 

 

Yet he still holds his hand out. Telling you to follow him, that he needs to show you something. 

 

And he does.

 

He shows you where he’s gone, what he’s been doing. You realize that he’s happy here, hidden in his own world. In a place where memories and time didn’t move in one line. A paradise that he could reach. And now you could too.

 

But you also see what he’s turned into. Lost. Confused. Dancing and looking at a past that had gone, unable to move forward. He runs, runs from the truth, runs from you. He runs from the mistakes he had made.

 

You see it.

 

How it all fell apart. He had tried, tried to save you, to save everyone. But he didn’t do it because of anyone else. He did for you. Because he loves you, because he cares.

 

_ Because of guilt. _

 

You see the truth. The Devil behind the stage, using everything to his advantage. With no Asra, with no Julian, with no Nadia, and with no you, there was nothing stopping him from taking over everything. There was no stopping the Devil from using everyone as a pawn.

Nadia was helping him, stuck in her own past. Julian was sending in anarchy, revelling and sowing chaos trying to calm his own down. Asra was stuck, unable to move on from the paradise he had set up.

 

But you were still free.

 

You remember this moment, asking him to help you fix everything. To stay and fight, to stop the Devil, to make things better and make up for the mistakes.

 

_ He remembers you asking.  _

 

_ You had been stubborn, willing to catch the plague. _

 

_ “Let’s just go, we can run--outrun the plage, stay safe--free,” he couldn’t lose you--not after his parents. But you were so, damn stubborn. _

 

_ “No,” _

 

_ And that was the last time he’d seen you. Stubborn, standing in the grounds of a city that would have no hope--no future. _

 

_ While he ran. _

 

You were hopeful, standing with an outstretched hand. 

 

“Let’s fix this...together,”

 

And Asra turned and ran.

 

And ran.

 

And ran.

 

And ran.

  
  
  



End file.
